Kim Possible: future Perfect
by PaperBard
Summary: The saga of Kim Possible in the year 2012. what will await our favourite heroine? Only time will tell. The future, isn't all that perfect.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_USWR Headquarters: Santa Cruz, California_

It had been quite a long night for Greg Matthews. With the increase in storm activity, the United States Weather Research, USWR for short, had asked him and several other individuals to pull overtime. Needing the extra pay, Greg had immediately agreed. Now he regretted his decision.

For hours, the small, black monitor at his workstation had been relaying precipitation measurements, storm patterns, wind velocities, and other technical jargon which he, in turn, was supposed to read and monitor for any discrepancies, errors, or anomalies. It hade been tiring work, and Greg was reaching the limit of his attention span. The only thing keeping him awake was a lukewarm cup of joe on his desk. Every hour or so, he had one of the trainees fill it up for him, occasionally brewing a new pot to satisfy the half-dozen or so workers who needed it just as much as he did. Unfortunately, grocery store coffee could only drive a man so far… and Greg was reaching the end of the caffeine's capacity to keep him awake.

He yawned loudly for the umpteenth time, which was soon followed by half a dozen more verbal signs of tiring. He groaned and looked at his digital watch. _2:30 in the morning!_ He had been sitting in his lumpy swivel-chair watching this blasted screen for close to ten hours now! _Gosh… I hope Marlene understands._ His thoughts drifted to his wife. She and the kids were obviously asleep, snug in their warm, comfortable beds, catching their forty winks. He sighed. They had planned on going for a camping trip this weekend. It was going to be their first family vacation in three years. Then Greg had got the call. They were struggling financially, and he might have lost his job had he refused. They had spent months saving for that trip. _Once the work dies down, I'll be able to take a week or two off… then I'll make it up to them._

He was interrupted from his contemplation by a loud beeping noise. At first he thought it was somebody's beeper, but then remembered that the infernal machines weren't allowed in here.

"Who's is that?" Greg asked quizzically. He rubbed his eyelids groggily.

"Uhh sir? It's… um… I think you should take a look at this." Greg swiveled around in his chair to get a look at the speaker. He managed to lift his heavy eyelids enough to see one of his colleagues, Eric Langster standing in front of his desk, his eyes glued to his monitor and his face ashen.

"What is it, Eric?" He groaned as he rose from his chair. "Is something wrong?" He stumbled over to his colleague's desk, placing his hands on top of it for support. After practically ten straight hours of sitting, with the odd bathroom break, his muscles just weren't quite up to the task of supporting his large girth yet. With a grunt of exertion, Greg steered himself around the desk to stand beside Eric, his hands still braced on it for support. Eric turned to him, his usually red face deathly pale. Greg gave him a quizzical stare, wondering what the heck was going on. Eric raised his hand, and without a word, turned the monitor towards Greg.

After studying the screen for several moments, he gasped loudly. "There must be some mistake!"

"No mistake sir. I checked and rechecked the data. It all adds up." Eric pointed at the information streaming across the computer screen. "We have the most sophisticated weather analysis equipment on the face of the planet. There's no mistake sir, though I wish to God there was." He pressed a few buttons on his keyboard and grimaced. The sounds of half a dozen gasps could be heard all over the room as the exact same data appeared on everyone's screen. Everyone's face instantly became as pale and ashen as Eric's. He turned to Greg, who was still gazing wordlessly at the computer screen. "Uh… sir? What should we do?"

Greg shook his head vigorously. Instantly composing himself, he walked to the center of the dimly-lit room and cleared his throat, freeing everyone from their stupor. "I know we're all freaked out about this… but we need to keep a cool head. I need everyone to get back to analyzing their respective data. We still have a job to do, remember. If it spreads, I want you there to watch its progress. I'll notify the head of State. Are we clear?" Everyone nodded nervously, their attention switching from their screens to Greg and back again.

Greg nodded wordlessly as he returned to Eric's computer. "Keep your eyes on it, alright? I need you to watch its progress directly and notify me if it gets any closer." Eric gulped nervously and nodded. Greg's eyes once more wandered to the computer screen. Displayed on the screen was a map of the Pacific Ocean. Taking up 75 of its area was a large, black swirl. Over the entire map, in large, red letters, could be seen the words:

WARNING!

MAJOR STORM APPROACHING!

Greg sighed. "May God help us all."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_A small island off the coast of New Zealand._

The steady pitter of rain reverberated loudly of the bulletproof windows, causing a cacophony of dripping sounds to reach the living room's occupants. Lightning flashed and thunder roared outside the Sorrel Mansion, causing various parts of the Old, Victorian-style home to light up briefly. Outside the bright red walls of the aged building the wind howled fiercely, shaking the very foundations of the rickety, though massive structure.

Inside the largest room of the mansion, sitting in plush, scarlet couches were some of the most dangerous men alive. Italian Mobster sat beside evil scientist; assassin beside American kingpin. They were a menagerie of evil, having little in common with one another, except for two things. One, they were all black hearted bastards, and second, they had all received the same E-mail, telling them to meet on this God-forsaken island to hear a proposal. Normally, the world's most influential criminal masterminds would have laughed at such a preposterous notion, demanding more information. However, the E-mail's sender had caught their eye: Tachus Sorrel, the number one agent for the most powerful organization in the world, the World Wide Empire of Evil, and one of the most dangerous men in the world. Whatever he had to say was big… REAL big!

So here they were, sitting inside the living room of a run-down mansion on some obscure island in the middle of nowhere. They were at their most vulnerable; barely packing any weaponry and without their hired muscle backing them up. None of them really wanted to be their, hundreds of miles away from any kind of support. Unfortunately, even criminal masterminds answered to someone, and that someone just happened to be Tachus Sorrel, a.k.a. Agent Alpha.

Thunder rumbled once more, causing several of those seated to flinch. There was quite a storm brewing outside. Not that any of them were really paying much attention to that, they were much too concerned with the storm brewing inside. Their host, who up till this time had remained silent, was standing in front of the antique fireplace, simmering. Some of the more reluctant guests had taken time to verify the E-mail extremely thoroughly, to the point of paranoia, which had caused them to arrive a few days later than planned. This had angered Agent Alpha immensely, causing him to fly off into a rage from which he had only recently recovered. He had gone on a rampage of wanton destruction, finally calming down amidst the wreckage of what used to be the sitting room. It had been a truly terrifying spectacle, one that none of those present wished to see again.

Their host stared deeply into the fire, his face mere inches from the roaring flames and his large fists clenched tightly at his side. Even without his cruel brown eyes boring into them, Agent Alpha still scared the crap out of his guests. He was not an overly large man, only standing about 5'10" and probably only weighing about 170. He was incredibly lean, however, and sinewy. While he might not have been rippling with pectorals, no one present could deny the iron-taught muscles obviously visible beneath his skin-tight, navy-blue body suit. If his physical capabilities didn't frighten them, there were always the two large pistols strapped on either side of his waist to consider. The high-tech weapons looked like something out of a science-fiction novel- all silver with buttons everywhere- but none of the criminal masterminds sitting comfortably in their silk chairs wished to see their capabilities.

Just when several of the more bold guests considered giving their host a verbal cue to proceed, Agent Alpha broke the silence. "You all know why I brought you here… correct?" He asked dryly, his voice thick with venom despite the lack of emotion. Despite their impatience, no one said a word; they just stared at their host with wide eyes. Tachus slowly turned around, his face illuminated for the briefest second by the fire and the motley collection of criminals finally got their first good look at their host's facial features. Despite his slighter frame, Agent Alpha was an extremely intimidating man. While he was probably the youngest man in the room, his ragged facial features gave him the look of a veteran criminal. A jagged scar ran along his right cheek, ending at the base of his chin. He was clean shaven, without even the slightest trace of hair anywhere on his face. Covering the top part of his face, just above the eyes, was a black cowl, giving him an air of mystery.

He scowled as he took a menacing step forward, his muscles rippling from underneath his black tunic as he clenched his fists even more tightly. Those present sat deeper into their chairs, trying to get as far away from this man as possible without angering him further.

One of the more brash guests, a Mafia Lord, cleared his throat loudly, before answering nervously in a thick, Italian accent. "You have a proposition for us, right? We all got your E-mail... Mr. Sorrel." He grimaced uncomfortably as his host turned his attention on him.

Agent Alpha took a step towards the unlucky mobster, who had foolishly taken a chair right next to the fireplace. One of his hands reached for one of his pistols threateningly, while the other crooked behind his back. He took several more steps towards the mobster until he was right in front of his chair, then leaned forward so that his leering face was mere inches from the nervous mobster's. "My, my… aren't we smart. Yeah… I got a proposition for you." He swiftly leaned back to his original position before continuing. "I have a proposition for all of you." He turned towards the fireplace, drew his pistol, and fired into the flames.

What followed was one of the strangest things any of the guests had ever seen. As soon as the projectile hit the fire, they sporadic flames began to form into a more solid wall of fire. The surprised criminals also noticed shapes beginning to form in the flames. At first the images were indiscernible, just vague shapes of color, but after a few moments, a familiar redhead could be clearly seen in the center of the massive fireplace.

"Kim Possible!" Agent Alpha's guests all yelled the name of their hated rival in unison.

Tachus smiled. "Indeed… the legendary Kim Possible. The scourge of every two-bit, underhanded gent trying to make a dishonest living, the top agent of Global Justice, our arch-enemy," He waved at the fireplace nonchalantly and the image changed to show an orbital view of the planet. "But most importantly, the number one obstacle to our plans of world conquest."

A certain blue-skinned scientist raised his small, black-gloved hand.

"Yes _Dr_. Drakken?" Tachus asked snidely, stressing the title mockingly.

"Yes..well… we've heard this all before haven't we? Yah, we know she kicks our butts at every corner. Yah… she finds someway to foil all our greatest plans at every turn. So what… that's old news. Tell us something we don't know." Drakken winced at the last part. He didn't want to see a repeat of their host's earlier performance with the sitting room, but he just couldn't help it. He had just gotten out of jail to find his old henchwoman, Shego, had given up a life of crime to go live with some hottie in Brazil. Then, when thought it couldn't get any worse, he had gotten an E-mail from some big honcho in the WWEE telling him to go to some obscure island on the other side of the pacific to hear some bad-boy jackass threaten to kill him on numerous occasions before bringing up the painful subject of Kim Possible. It was just more than the self-proclaimed doctor could take. He just hoped his 'host' wouldn't treat him to 'specials hospitalities'.

If Tachus Sorrel was any bit angry by his guest's outburst, he didn't show it. "You are correct, Dr. Drakken." He smiled.

Drakken cocked his head to the side quizzically before stammering, "I…I am?"

"Yes… indeed you are doctor. Kim Possible _is_ old history." The top agent for WWEE returned to his spot in front of the fireplace. He turned his head back towards his guest, the light from the fire playing off his rough features making him look even more sinister. Tachus grinned wickedly. "That is… she will be."


End file.
